Missing
by Rose's Thorne
Summary: Formerly The Return, written before Missing You came out. When Jess goes missing, who will be there to find her? I finally got a new computer! Two new chapters up...More coming when I find them...Now, where did they go?
1. The Beginning

(A/N: Just so you know, author's notes annoy me, so you probably won't see very many from here on in. If they annoy you too, you can just skip this part and move on to the rest of the story. This is my first fan fic so please read and review. I will try to put up a new chapter every two weeks, but it depends on how much volleyball, debate, and homework I have. I also will not respond to reviews in the story, so don't expect it, but don't let it stop you from reviewing! All of the 1-800-WHERE-R-YOU characters belong to Meg Cabot, which, coincidentally, isn't me. Wow, that was long and even those of you who don't mind A/N's are getting annoyed right about now. So without further ado :)

Chapter One: The Beginning

Jess's POV

Yeah, I'm still writing all of this down. I guess it's become a habit; I just can't seem to stop. Let me start off by telling you that my life sucks. I know I've said it before, but it doesn't hurt to reiterate it. _My life sucks._ And the best part? It's still Ruth's fault. Don't get me wrong, she is my best friend, but sometimes I can't help but wonder what my life would be like if she didn't keep messing it up. Don't believe me? See for yourself.

--------------------------

Jess's POV

"Don't forget to call me, alright." Rob reminded me as he hopped back on his Indian after dropping me off at school and headed off to work.

Yeah, like I would really forget to call him.

So, let's get this straight. After finally introducing Rob to my parents, they sort of freaked out. Not so much my dad, but my mom, that's another story. Not right in front of Rob while he was lying in a hospital bed, but when we got home. Let's just say that the next day at school, Claire Lippman said that she felt sorry for me. Well, I finally managed to persuade her to at least give Rob a chance after about three days of begging incessantly.

Rob and I were supposed to meet up later tonight to eat dinner at Chicks. It had become one of my favorite places for a good burger seeing as though my dad's restaurants only served Italian. I walked up the stairs and through the front entrance of Ernest Pyle High School. I met up with Ruth halfway between her and my lockers.

"Why do you look so happy today?" she asked. "Does it have something to do with a certain someone who may or may not have given you a ride to school today?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, trying to play innocent.

"Please, you can't fool me. You called me this morning telling me not to bother picking you up today and fifteen minutes later I see you getting on the back of that Grit's motorcycle. I'm not stupid Jess."

"Yeah, so he gave me a ride to school this morning, what's the big deal? I would also appreciate if you would also stop calling my boyfriend "that Grit. He does have a name you know."

"He's going to hurt you Jess. You know that."

"You know what?" I asked, anger reaching by boiling point, "I don't know that. I also don't know what you have against him. He is a human being for cripes sakes!" I was practically shouting at this point. People were staring to stare, but I didn't care. "I thought you weren't like that Ruth. I thought you would be happy for me that I found somebody I love. I never expected you to patronize me for it. I thought you knew better than to judge someone by which part of town they live in!" With this I stormed away leaving an astonished Ruth in my wake.

I kept on walking right out of the school and out the doors. I didn't care about getting in trouble; I already had detention for basically the rest of the year anyway. I kept walking down High School Road, past the car wash and the McDonald's. I wandered aimlessly for ten minutes before deciding that I would go see Rob. I started heading in that direction when I suddenly felt a searing pain in back of my head. That's when everything went black.


	2. Unnamed

Chapter Two: Unnamed

Narrator POV

Parker Jennings was not a normal girl. Sure, she acted like a normal girl, talked like a normal girl, and looked like a normal girl. She went to school and got perfect grades, yet she was always unsatisfied with her life. Everyday she was constantly reminded of the things that she didn't have, but everyone else took for granted. Things such as a family, a home, a name. Yes, Parker Jennings was a girl without a name. Actually she had a name, but very few people knew it. To these people, she was Parker. To the rest of the world, she was now known as Kylie Davis, at least for the time being. She had had so many names in her life that it was hard to keep track of all of them anymore. Every time she was forced to move to a different city, or even a different country, her name had to change too.

Right now she was living in New York City with her guardian, Red. She didn't have a family, not because they were dead, but because they thought she was, if that makes any sense. When Parker was six years old, her dad got involved with some pretty bad people. He wasn't a criminal, but a private investigator. He was working on a case when he stumbled upon a German terrorist cell based right in the United States. The terrorists found out about this and decided to give him some incentive to get off of the case. One day, he walked into his office where his secretary handed him a blank manila envelope. Inside was a note:

_If your daughter ever wishes to see her seventh birthday, we would advise you not to get involved in affairs that don't concern you._

_Signed,_

_The Schlechte Burschen_

This note was accompanied y several pictures of her at school, home, and playing at her friend's house. Mr. Jennings was scared to death for his little girl. He refused to ever let anything happen to her. Being a private investigator, he had many contacts in the government. He quickly called Red, a good friend, and the head of the Chicago office of the CIA. Within eight hours, they had come up with an elaborate plan to make sure that no one would hurt her. Their plan was this: fake her death and blame it on the terrorists that threatened to hurt her in the first place.

From that day on, Parker Jennings ceased to exist.

She was a shell of a girl who took on whatever appearance suited Red at that particular point in time. Sometimes she was a goody-goody two shoes who wore pink every day. Sometimes she was the star athlete, or sometimes the preppy cheerleader. But no matter what role she played, everyone always knew that she didn't quite fit in. She never had any real friends. No one really knew her, so she never felt the need to get close to anyone.

The only people who knew her were those whom she worked with. Parker Jennings was a sixteen-year-old CIA agent. She could get into places that no one else could. She was able to get close to sons and daughters of suspected terrorists, brilliant scientists, and diplomats. This was a huge advantage because kids are must more trusting than adults, and adults are highly unlikely to suspect a child.

The CIA saw this and took an advantage of it.

Parker's POV

"Red, I'm home!" I called out to the empty apartment. Oh well. I dumped my schoolbags in my bedroom and went into the living room. I was about to flip on the TV when I spotted an angry red file sitting on the coffee table. Naturally, I just had to open it. Taking a quick glance around to make sure I was truly alone, I eased the cover of the file open.

Oh, It's just the Mastriani case. I sat back and began to read.


	3. The File

Chapter Three: The File

Case Number: 2 1389 00641 7747 

_Subject: Mastriani, Jessica Antonia_

_Status: Missing (Presumed Dead) Confirmed Dead_

Timeline of Events 

_Day 1: 8:00 A.M. Left school visibly upset after fight with best friend (Abramowitz, Ruth) before first period, did not return_

3:30P.M. Did not call boyfriend (Wilkins, Robert) 

_11:30 P.M. Parents called police after proving unsuccessful in calling all acquaintances_

Day 2: No sign Day 3: 11:30 P.M. Missing persons report is filed 

_Day 4: 10:23 A.M. Dogs find body burned beyond all recognition_

_Day 7: DNA recovered from molar cavities confirms the body to be that of the victim's_

_**Profiles**_

_Mastriani, Jessica:_

_Relationship: Victim_

_Age: 16_

_Birth date: February 10, 1989_

_Note: Was struck by lightning last spring and gained psychic powers, later losing them, or so she claimed to the media and the FBI._

_Wilkins, Robert:_

_Relationship: Boyfriend_

_Alibi: Working in uncle's garage- 6 witnesses_

_Note: On probation for_

_Claims victim was supposed to call him after school and never did. Phone records confirm this. Often demanded to know what was going on throughout the interview._

_Abramowitz, Ruth:_

_Relationship: Best friend/next door neighbor_

_Alibi: At School- 10 interviewed witnesses_

_Claims victim and her had a fight directly prior to the victims exit from school. Clearly distraught throughout the interview, cried "Everything is always my fault!" When prompted she confesses that she was referring to the lightning incident of last spring._

_Mastriani, Joseph:_

_Relationship: Father_

_Alibi: Working at his restaurant, Mastriani's- all staff and several patrons confirm this_

_Mastriani, Antonia:_

_Relationship: Mother_

_Alibi: At home cooking for the neighborhood gathering the next evening- Son and fresh baked pies confirm this_

_Mastriani, Douglass:_

_Relationship: Brother_

_Alibi: Working at Comic Store- Boss confirms_

_Note: Treated for Schizophrenia and has suicidal tendencies _

_Mastriani, Michael:_

_Relationship: Brother_

_Alibi: Attending classes at local college- attendance records confirm_

_Hanky, Karen Sue:_

_Relationship: Subject has lawsuit against the victim_

_Alibi: Attending school- attendance records confirm_

_Note: claims victim had violent tendencies towards her. Some friendly competition for third chair flute in school orchestra_

_Possible Suspects: None_

_Possible Motives: Sexual Assault_

_Case has run cold._


	4. Gone

Chapter 4: Gone

Rob's POV

I can't believe she's gone. Just like that.

_I started getting worried when she didn't call me that night. Since when doesn't she call when she says she will? But I shook it off. Maybe she broke someone's nose at was laid up in Mr. Goodheart's office for a while. _

_So I waited._

_And I waited._

_Then I got fed up with waiting and finally called her house._

"_Hello?"_

"_Hello Mrs. Mastriani. This is Rob. Could I talk to Jess?"_

"_Jess? I thought she was with you."_

"_What? Oh yeah, now I remember. She told me that she had to stay after school to work on a project with Joanne. I'm sorry I bothered you."_

"_That's OK Rob. I will talk to you later then."_

"_Yeah, See ya."_

_I hung up the phone. Boy does she have some explaining to do, I thought to myself. But I just figured that she was out looking for some kid she must have found the night before. I waited for another hour before finally calling Ruth to see if she knew where Jess was._

"_Hey"_

"_Uh, hi. This is Rob."_

"_Oh. Hi," she said, her voice suddenly becoming a lot cooler towards me._

"_Yeah, uh, have you seen Jess?"_

"_Isn't she with you?"_

"_No, what makes you think that?"_

"_I just would have thought that she would be with you when she walked out of school today."_

"_WHAT!"  
_

"_You didn't know? Well, we kind of had a fight right before first period. She got really mad and just walked out of school. She headed in the direction of the garage. I assumed she was with you the whole time."_

"_Crap," I said, only I didn't say crap if you know what I mean._

_I just hung up on Ruth ("Hey!") when I called Mrs. Mastriani back._

How could she just leave me like this? Leave all of us? I know that it wasn't her fault, but I needed someone to blame.

I immediately felt guilty. If anyone had suffered in all of this, it was Jess. She had died! So, since I wasn't going to blame her anymore, I started to blame myself. This was my fault. I shouldn't have left her at school all by herself. I should have been there. I shouldn't have covered up her disappearance for so long. If I hadn't, who knows what could have happened. She could even be alive right now.

I haven't slept, ate or left the house since her death. My mom keeps coming into my room trying to force me to eat. I never do. She's also really upset about what happened to Jess. She really liked her. I just can't figure out who would do this to her.

But when I find out.

Let's just say that I hope this guy has his burial plot all paid for.


	5. Free Rein

Chapter 5: Free Rein

Parker's POV 

I don't buy it. The whole thing seems way to Alias for me. You know when Sydney comes back after being dead for two years. The body in her apartment that burned to the ground was injected with her DNA into her teeth. Way too freaky. The cases are so similar. It's almost like they purposely tried to copy it.

OK, someone's been watching way too much TV.

But still, it could happen, right?

I was so engrossed in the file that I almost didn't notice a key turning in the lock on the front door. I quickly stuffed the file back into the folder, set it on the side table, and flipped on the TV trying to act nonchalant. It almost worked. Until I realized that I had set the folder on the wrong table.

Red noticed too.

I braced myself for the chewing out that was about to come, but surprisingly, it never did. Red just stood there laughing at me.

"If I didn't want you to read that file, do you think I would have left it sitting on the table?"

I blushed. Boy, I felt stupid. I should have known that Red would never be that careless.

"Don't worry about it. So, what do you think?"

"About the file? I think it's a load of BS."

"I thought the same thing too."

"Who would do something like this?"

"Do you honestly not see it?"

"See what?"

"The resemblance between these cases."

"What cases?"

"What happened six years ago?"

"_Daddy, what's going on?"_

"_Listen sweetheart, there are some bad men coming to get you. You need to go with Mr. Red so you can be safe."_

"_Daddy, I don't want to go. I'm scared."_

"_I know honey, but we just can't help it."_

"_When can I come back?"_

"_I'm sorry sweetheart, you can never come back."_

"_Now, Carly."_

"_Who's Carly?"_

"_You're Carly."_

"_No I'm not."_

"_Yes you are, Carly."_

"_Actually, my name is Parker."_

"_No, you're name is Carly now."_

"_Come on Mr. Red, you've known me for a long time. You know my name is Parker."_

_He gave me an exasperated sigh and said, "Come here, let me show you something."_

_He walked me into his office. I watched as he bent over his desk and shuffled through the mounds of papers. He obviously found what he was looking for, because he plucked a wrinkled newspaper clipping from the pile and brought it over to me._

"_Here, let me read this to you."_

"_I can read it by myself, thank you."_

_I snatched the piece of paper from his hands and sat down on the rolling office chair he had stationed behind his desk. The headline immediately caught my attention. It read, "__**Young Girl Dies in Fiery Explosion, Terrorists Suspected**__." As I continued to read the article it talked about how the young daughter of Boston's most renowned private investigator was sitting in her parent's car when a car bomb went off completely destroying the car, everything, and everyone, in it. A suspected terrorist cell claimed responsibility for the act that was supposed to serve as a warning for her father to stop looking in to their activities. The young girl's name was Parker Jennings._

_I looked to Red for conformation._

_"We had to fake your death so you could be safe. We had to let the bad guys think that they killed you because they would never rest until they did. For all intents and purposes, you are dead. Parker is dead. You are Carly now, Carly Evans._

"You don't really think that the Schlechte Burschen are behind this, do you?" I asked Red, coming out of my reverie.

"It all fits, doesn't it? The case has their name written all over it. Everything fits their M.O."

"But, what would a bunch of German terrorists want with an American teenager. Her dad runs a chain of restaurants, not exactly high on their 'To Hit' list."

"They want to use her psychic powers to their advantage."

"Who exactly are they looking for?"

"About three months ago, one of their highest ranking officials was captured while trying to steal a truckload of plutonium. Since then, we have kept his whereabouts completely classified. They want to know where he is so that they can break him out."

"So they kidnapped her in order to exploit her psychic powers and faked her death so the authorities would quit looking for her. Yeah, that does sound like something they would do. Now the question becomes, what do we do next?"

"I think I'm going to leave that up to you."

Now he's talking. I just love it when he gives me free rein on a case like this. Now the only obstacle to stand in my way is the fact that I still have to think of a plan. I went into my bedroom, fired up my laptop, and got to work.


	6. Monkey

Chapter 6: Monkey

Jess's POV

This sucks.

I absolutely HATE being locked up like a monkey in the zoo. That's exactly what I am, their little monkey. At least, that's what they want me to be. They want me to help them find this Russian dude or something like that. Hey, I'm not exactly an accent expert. All I know is that it is some kind of weird European one. Anyway, I tried telling them that I don't have my power anymore. Needless to say, it didn't exactly work. I can't believe that they have the gall not to believe the blatant lies I'm feeding them. What the heck is up with that? So, I guess that until I end up doing what they say, I am still going to be treated like their monkey.

Not that they've actually fed my any bananas, at least not yet anyway. I've gotten an apple and a couple of oranges, but no banana. I suppose this is a good thing. I mean that they're feeding me. At least they are not trying to starve me into submission. I think that they think that I will cooperate if they can get me to think that they don't mean me any harm. Well, if they really want to know what I think, I think that anyone who knocks a girl out, drags them into a cell in the middle of God knows where, and tries to get her to help them find one of their pretty nasty looking buddies is definitely not someone I want to be associated with. Not like I really have a choice.

Strangely, one of the thoughts that keeps popping into my head at a time like this is that if my kidnappers don't kill me, I eventually end up dead. Let's go over the people who will probably kill me if I ever get out of here:

Ruth. I yelled at her, walked out on her (which I do feel bad about, by the way), and then disappeared. Yep, she'll probably kill me.

Rob. He told me to call and I didn't, I managed to get myself in a load of trouble…again. I'm a goner.

My Dad. I was supposed to work at Joe's this weekend. Sorry Dad.

My Mom. Do I really need to say any more? I walked out of school and got myself kidnapped. Come to think of it, Doug might not be taking this very well and God knows that will be all my fault as well, as if I _wanted_ to be stuck here when I could be hanging out with my new boyfriend, hanging out with Ruth, or I don't know, there are a lot of things I can think of that I'd rather be doing. Giving Karen Sue Hankey flute lessons comes to mind. Yeah, it's that bad.

So here I sit, waiting for some European dude to come in and tell me what to do next. I am so bored right now I can barely stand it. Maybe that's their tactic. Bore me out of my mind so I go mad and start shouting out all of my secrets for them to know. Not that I have many secrets to begin with, but that's not to say that there are things in my private life that I might not want these guys to know about. Like the fact that I really do know where that scary-looking guy they want me to find is. Not that I'm going to let them know that, especially since his location happens to entail what I'm taking to be a top-secret government facility. I'm kind of assuming he is being held prisoner for doing something either dangerous or illegal. I'd wager on both…

"WHAT THE HECK!!!!!"

A furious shout from the other room shook me out of my thoughts, although they didn't say "heck" if you know what I mean.

This commotion naturally caught my interest and I got up from my position of sitting on the floor leaning against the grimy wall of the cell I was being kept in. These shouts were accompanied by a couple bangs, grunts, and choice words both in English and some I assumed were not so nice Russian-or-whatever-they-are versions of them. This went on for about three minutes before there was one, very large thud, and then nothing else until…

"Get off your lazy butt and help me move her already!"

That wasn't a good sign. The accent-guy had clearly won whatever battle had taken place in there a second ago, and now he wanted help from his friends to move a body. Not a good sign at all.

There came a shuffling of feet and then the sound of a key in the doorknob. There were bringing the body in here! By now I had already decided that they had killed whoever it was. Just great, now I had to share my monkey cell with a dead body. I had never actually been with a dead body for any kind of period of time before and I sure didn't want to change that now. I closed my eyes and braced myself for the stench I knew was going to come from watching all of those C.S.I. shows.

"Here you go, now you will have a little companion. Have fun you two," came a heavily accented voice. There was a thud, the sound of a door closing and a key turning, then a soft moan.

Wait, a moan? That meant…

"Who the heck are you?"

Only I didn't say heck. Sure, maybe it would have been more polite for me to wait until she completely woke up before I started interrogating her. Or maybe there was a more polite way to word my question, but after you've been in a cramped, dingy cell as long as I have, etiquette seem to go right out the window.

My "companion" was about my age, with shoulder-length brown hair. She was attractive looking, but not in that I'm-trying-to-be kind of way. She wore a black long-sleeve shirt, dark jeans, and black combat boots. Not exactly a fashion statement, but hey, who am I to judge? Her slowly opening eyes were a brilliant emerald-green color, and she also seemed to be about my age.

"Who are you?" she asked me as soon as she became fully conscious.

Technically I had asked first, but I decided to play along for now.

"Jessica Mastriani, but everyone calls me Jess. Who are you?"

She paused for a minute before answering.

"Parker, Parker Jennings."


End file.
